A Star in the Blackness
by GhastlyGrumpkins
Summary: Techno is a mutant, an experiment, looked down on and mistreated by most other irkens for most of her life until one day she managed to break out of the lab and stole a small ship. Then headed for a backwater planet in the middle of nowhere...
1. First Day of Life

Fear… Fear was the first thing she felt when she opened her eyes for the first time. Fear of this strange new world she was seeing.

Then set in the rage… Rage at the fear and herself for being afraid but most of all rage at the smug, sadistic look on the face of the one that had woken her; brought her into this frightful world.

Confusion came next… A hooked black claw extended from the ends of each of the four digits on her hand while the one before her only had three digits on each hand and pointed nails, not claws. She felt her teeth with her tongue and realized they too were different from his zipper-like teeth. Her teeth were like knives in the front, perfect for tearing into flesh; more rounded in the back, better for grinding up plant material. However despite their differences there were many similarities as well. Their skins were both a pale green, two jet black antenna stuck up from their bald scalps and their eyes were solid in color, the only thing indicating they weren't simply staring into space was their white pupils; hers were a cerulean blue while his were bicolored, red and teal. They were known as irkens.

"You woke up late, little mutant. I almost thought you were dead." He didn't seem particularly affected by that thought, as if she barely mattered at all. "Let's put you with the others, your twin should be happy to see you." He scooped her up out of the goop and shards of glass from the test tube she'd developed in despite her animalistic growl. She squirmed and bit at his hand and arms while he carried her but a pair of thick gloves and his coat protected him from her sharp teeth.

"Hmmph. Quite a feisty one you are; hardly like your twin at all." He mused mostly to himself with an amused smirk. He took her to a room where the goop was washed off and diaper was put on her, which of course she decided she hated the second it was on. He opened another door to a room lined with padding that covered metal walls and a heavy iron door after typing in a pass code.

In the room there were twenty-seven other children similar to her, all with claws and strange razor sharp teeth. One was about a year older than the others and was asleep in a dog bed in the corner of the padded room while most of the rest were either roughhousing with each other or asleep in a pile of blankets in the middle of the room.

Strangely enough all of them also had marks on their hands; crudely scribbled numbers and letters were tattooed into the palm of their right hands in black ink. The adult irken set her down and grabbed her taloned right hand before she could escape and pulled out a pen-like object. He turned her hand over so he could see the palm, activated the device in his hand and put it to her skin. She howled in pain as it burned the pigment into her skin and attempted to escape but his grip was like iron and his expression showed he enjoyed the pained struggling of the child as he carved the letters "T-Ech" into her skin. They were short for "Twin of Echo". Each of the other smeets besides the eldest, who's tattoo read "Origin" because she was the first successful attempt at such a mutation, took their names from the NATO phonetic alphabet in order of birth so Echo, her identical twin, was the fifth born of the main group. Her tatoo read "5-E" because of this.

Eventually he released her hand and put the device away as she scrambled away fearfully and hid among the blankets in the center of the room. "I'll be back for feeding time, little mutants!" He said as he left, leaving their caretaker, a kind, light pink skinned vortian woman with crimson horns and bright blue eyes as the only adult in the room.


	2. Guilt and Comfort

A small sigh escaped the one T-Ech had come to know as Whiskey or "W-23". He'd taken a bit of a bruising during the last time they'd been let out of the room for training purposes. It had been three months since the last mutant smeet had come into this world of padded walls and empty hallways with many unknown noises and that smeet had angered the one that trained them, "the controller" as the mutants referred to her in their language of growls and hisses.

Zulu, as the youngest was known by, was also the smallest of the smeets and she tended to take the brunt of their tall trainer's temper when it reared it's ugly head and Whiskey had decided to attempt to stop them this time and had sunk his teeth into her leg, earning himself several good kicks to the side and face until he released, mouth drenched in blood and a more deranged look than usual on his face, one of aggression and hunger for the metalic taste of the blood.

Their controller had passed out from blood loss not long after and had been nonchalantly dragged away by Kaz while their vortian caretaker, Tin calmed down the smeets and wiped Whiskey's mouth off with a napkin she had stuffed in her pocket during her lunch break.

She favored the smeets over contact with her co-workers because they were tough, relentless little creatures that refused to break under the pressure put on them. They were built to be disposable killing machines for the battlefield to replace irkens with PAKs. Dogs, so to speak, that no one would care about if and when they dropped dead so long as they managed to kill something. Easy to make and easy to train, unfortunately as the lab workers had found out the hard way the last one was not so true.

The smeets held a fierce hatred for those who barked orders at them and that hatred manifested in a stubborn unwillingness to follow instruction and marked amounts of hissing and spitting at their trainers as well as many, sometimes fatal scratches and bites. They were picky and choose carefully whom they listened to. Unfortunately the trainers never caught on to the fact that a steady voice and even temperament was best for coaxing them into cooperation...

Whiskey curled up in the blanket pile on the other side of the room and closed his eyes, not noticing when T-Ech crawled over, a spark of curiosity in her eyes. She poked him gently, wondering what exactly he was feeling, guilt was not what she felt when she'd bit their last trainer or Kaz who had been lucky enough the bite hadn't left a deep wound. Just a predatory lust for the blood of those who treated her like dirt.

He swatted her hand away with a whine only to snap his eyes wide open when the other smeet curled up against his side instead of leaving. T-Ech patted his head not knowing much about comforting others, though despite her lack of experience her fellow mutant cracked smile and hugged her with a tired purr of thanks as she returned the gesture. Slowly, slowly they both drifted off to sleep to dream of the wonderful stories Tin told of the outside before she left them to go to sleep...


	3. New Paks

T-Ech looked about, she and the other smeets had been led to a room by Kaz with several cold, metal tables that evoked a fear that only made her angry again. She hated being afraid. It had been seven months since their first spark of consciousness.

There stood two people unfamiliar to the smeets, one a short hybrid vortian/irken, a vortken with two antenna whose tips mimicked the points of arrows and two blunt horns that curled like a ram's before bending inward and ending at the corners of his mouth. This one was named Zenith, he looked nervous, like he didn't want to be here.

The other was a robot, close to six foot and humanoid in figure, purple and magenta were the main colors that painted the outside. It was standing next to 28 metal pods that had been set in the corner.

One thing was for sure this was not going to be a pleasant experience…

Three days later only seven smeets emerged from the room, scars down their spines and Paks on their backs. Alfa, Bravo, Echo, Techno, Whiskey, Zulu and Kitty. The two unfamiliar people left, the vortken looking as if he immensely regretted taking the job of attaching paks to the mentally unstable mutant smeets. He had a few wounds, and was sick with himself for what he'd done.

Their bodies had not been designed for a pak. It had killed most of them.

Kaz however thought nothing of his actions. It was all in the name of creating a perfectly obedient and stronger soldier. For science. For his career.

He didn't care about how the mutants FELT he just needed them to grow strong and obey...

~~~~~~~~~~~  
Authours Note:

Sorry it took so long to update! w

I honestly don't have an excuse for not uploading this sooo much sooner...


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